Ghost Rare
by Brother Mirtillo
Summary: The Dark Signer war approaches, but the dragons won't be able to fight... not unless they can find their Signers. Each human must stand up to great danger in order to find their newest card and ally. (Rated for language) Chapter 6: "Darkened Gales"
1. Prologue

_Most of my stories come from a certain question that pops into my head. In this case, it was: "How in the name of LittleKuriboh would a set of priceless and powerful cards land in the hands of a few [pre-]teens, half of whom live in slums?"_

_These stories will show a variety of possible answers, most of which will go into dangers far beyond card games._

/ / /

Gentle string-instrumental music lilted throughout the softly-lit restaurant, and murmurs of small talk and laughter rose and fell from various tables and booths. At the front of the restaurant, there stood a slim man in a slate-gray suit with curly, light gray hair tied back behind his shoulders. He waited motionlessly, with his gloved hands held behind his back.

His hands trembled slightly, or at least his right hand did. His mind flashed to a raw memory, of dizziness and harsh fluorescent light, of lying on his back strapped to a bench, of gut-twisting pain so prolonged and undying that he had thought he would vomit–

The gray-suited man shook his head, took a deep breath, and willed himself back to the present. All of that was over. The doctor had settled the favor. Now, it was all up to him.

He looked up in plenty of time to see the front door open and to see a gaunt, black-suited man enter the restaurant. He greeted the new arrival immediately, "Good evening, Okabe."

The bony man met his gaze from behind tiny wire-framed spectacles. He nodded curtly, "Godwin."

The restaurant's smiling hostess guided both men to a booth well away from the other guests. No sooner had the men settled themselves when a waiter appeared beside them. "Good evening, gentlemen. Thank you for joining us tonight."

Okabe did not accept one of the proffered menus.

Smoothly, the waiter inquired, "Would you care for a drink to start?"

The dark-suited man's beady eyes flashed. "No. No, I would not care for a drink. Leave us now."

"Oh, come now, Okabe," said the gray-haired man across the table. "The whisky here is excellent. It's on me."

"This is no time for–!" But his complaint met no reaction, as Godwin had already told the waiter what to bring, with the waiter bowing at the selection. Even before the waiter was out of sight, Okabe hissed, "This is no time for fooling around, Godwin."

The gray-suited man half-sighed, letting his grin soften to a gentler smile. "Of course not, Okabe. I'm on your side here. I can't guess how much stress you've been through this week–"

"Oh, I bet you couldn't!"

"–so I say you deserve a little something to pay off your labors."

Okabe blinked, feeling a drop of sweat outside the corner of his eye. He took off his spectacles and used a silk handkerchief to polish them and dab at his face.

The waiter returned, bearing bottle and glasses. Godwin signaled for the waiter to pour Okabe's drink first, and when they were both ready, he toasted his guest. "_Kanpai_."

The other man raised his glass stiffly before taking a quick swallow.

Godwin sipped his own drink, feeling an accompanying rush of adrenaline bring clarity to his senses. It felt quite invigorating alongside the vivid, throat-warming flavor.

Okabe put his half-empty glass down with a clunk. "So? Let's conclude our business!"

Lightly, Godwin set his own glass down. "You've met my terms?"

Okabe's fingers twitched. "Show it to me first."

Godwin reached for his jacket, unbuttoning it and half-opening one side. His inner pocket contained a flat metal case the size of a notepad. He kept his calm smile as he raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Okabe reached into his own jacket pocket, removing a flat leather portfolio of similar size and setting it on the table.

Godwin laid the metal case on the table, noting how the other man's eyes followed his every motion. After a silent moment, both men opened their cases.

Okabe gasped for breath. "It really does exist..."

Godwin did not reply, only glancing down long enough to see that the leather portfolio contained the cash and bearer bonds he had specified, all in the right amounts.

Okabe took his handkerchief back out, wiping another trickle of sweat from his eyebrow. "Stardust Dragon..." From another pocket, he fished out a small lens, holding it to his eye and scrutinizing the card, with its image of a cloud-white dragon. The illustrated monster had a slender but wiry body with wide wings, sharp limbs and claws, and a long neck leading to a streamlined head.

Godwin sipped his drink again, with one hand still resting on the metal case as he let the other man examine the card.

Finally, Okabe pocketed the lens and met Godwin's eyes. "Very well. We have a deal."

"Excellent," replied Godwin. Both men closed their cases, slid them across the table, and pocketed their new possessions. Godwin added, "Will you stay and let me get you dinner?"

"Thank you," said Okabe with measured composure, "That's very... _generous_ of you, but I must return to my office immediately." He drained his glass.

"Of course. Let's do business again soon."

Okabe stood up without another word and left the restaurant.

Godwin sipped his own drink, and he smiled again when the waiter returned. It was high time for a celebratory meal, though not _quite_ as expensive as he might have ordered. He had sold all three of his treasures, giving him just enough to make a new start in any city, even Neo Domino.

He could only hope that he would also succeed in building an influential name for himself. Fate would lead the dragons to their true Signers, but he would need every possible advantage to prepare for the war.

As the waiter departed with his order, he raised his glass once more in a silent toast to himself, to his brother, and to their future.


	2. The Ruler's Heartbeat

With one punch, Jack sent the stubbly thug sprawling into the nearest brick wall. He heard running footsteps approach from behind him, and he stepped aside with calm speed.

The incoming blackjack whistled through empty air an inch from striking Jack's skull. The young man wielding it grunted in anger and tried for a backswing attack.

Jack caught the attacker's wrist in mid-arc, wrenching it further around and behind the sneering man's back.

Trapped, the man yelled in pain, feeling his wrist twisting too far.

"Drop it," said Jack.

His prisoner hissed with breath and tried to wriggle free.

Jack grabbed his other arm, holding it just as firmly as he twisted the first arm. "_Drop_ it."

The man's finger's slackened, and his weapon hit the pavement. "Bastard– ahh!"

Jack had shoved him forward, slamming him into the wall then stepping back and letting go. As his recent prisoner reeled dizzily, Jack dealt him one sharp blow to the side of the head.

He dropped to the dirty ground alongside his co-worker.

Jack stood alone in the night's darkness, breathing hard, feeling the pulse of blood pounding in his temples. He massaged his aching hand. _Those are the last two guards on this block._ He was sure of the number, but he'd never fought so many at once before... at least, not on his own–

He banished that line of thought and caught his breath. He listened for any distant sounds of disorder and heard none... not yet. He turned and ran down the junk-strewn street, moving swiftly between patches of weak streetlight and dingy shadows. Satellite's faltering lamps illuminated his thin blue jeans, cut-off black shirt, and the scuffed duel disk strapped to his left wrist. Little by little, he drew closer to the dimmest building on the block.

Even as Jack watched, three men burst from the building's front door – two taller men with heavy coats and one short, older man in a suit and slacks. The two men in front each began looking around. The man behind them swung his walking stick, striking one of his goons on the shoulder and hissing, "The car, you idiot! Someone got the driver – find who did it!" The targeted man nodded and ran down the sidewalk towards an alley that held a late-model car.

Unfortunately, he was also running towards Jack, who sprang upon him in a second. One punch each to the stomach and head doubled up the thug and dropped him to the pavement. Jack continued onward towards the stunned men near the door.

The remaining thug dropped a briefcase he held and flicked his other wrist. Instantly, a knife flashed into his hand. He slashed out at the attacking teenager, who barely dodged away.

Jack and the thug didn't speak as they struck and blocked at each other, fists and slices and parries each exchanging in turn.

Then, with a yell, the man gave one dire attack powered by his whole body.

Jack twisted around it, spinning and landing his attack on the side of the man's head. His target stumbled, dropping the knife, barely standing until one more strike knocked him out for good. Only then did Jack turn to face the one remaining person.

The old man had stepped back several paces towards the door. His eyes flitted away from the distant car to meet Jack's stare. "You mangy whelp..."

"Shioya," declared Jack. "Your meeting's been canceled." His smirk brought sharpness to his purple eyes. "Something scared off your contact."

"_That's_ why you're here? You're trying to stop..." Mr. Shioya paused, smiled, and straightened up. "If you were interested in my business, all you had to do was ask. I receive all job applicants."

Jack sputtered, "You... _job_ applicant!?"

"And why not? You're a clear improvement over my current staff." He waved his walking stick idly in the direction of his fallen bodyguards. "By the way, where _is_ my driver?"

Jack smirked again, pointing his thumb to the mouth of the alley, where there lay a fallen man with a cigarette a few inches from his limp fingers.

Shioya's mouth wrinkled in a frown. "I _told_ him not to smoke on duty." Then, he shrugged, smiled, and said, "But as for you..."

"Spare me your offer, Shioya. I'd never work with you. I know what you've done to set up 'business' here in Satellite. Bribing, smuggling weapons and _worse_ merchandise... You've already threatened and killed too many people! We don't need your presence here. Your time ends tonight, and your end comes from me, Jack Atlas!"

The man's smile remained fixed. "Such character... It warms the heart, to see a warrior of the old school."

Jack raised a fist and stepped forward. "Surrender, or I–"

"You wear a duel disk, Mr. Atlas."

Jack paused, studying the small man before him with a new wariness.

Shioya knelt with surprising grace, scooping up the briefcase, popping it open, and slipping out a gleaming new duel disk. He strapped it to his wrist, saying, "Why don't we settle this the old way? If you win, I leave. If I win, you accept my job offer."

Jack scowled. _You mean for me to stand still to accept broken legs or worse._ "I have a better offer." He reached into a pocket, withdrawing a cable with a metal cuff on either end of it. Holding it like a grapnel, he swung out, and the cable lashed out at Shioya, who flinched as one cuff fastened to his disk. "You can't escape here, so our duel is guaranteed, and the loser's disk will be destroyed!" Calmly, he fastened the cable's free end to his own disk.

Shioya blinked then said, "Quite the device of yours... but it's not like you've given me a choice, so I'll add one more thing. Let's say that our duel's loser..." and here his grin returned, "...must forfeit their entire deck to the winner!"

Jack glared at this reply, then declared, "I accept! And before this duel is done, you'll wish you'd never darkened the streets of Satellite!" He smiled as he switched on his disk and drew five cards, with his life point counter filling up to 4000. "Now, behold Jack Atlas' duel!"

Twenty minutes later, Jack was no longer smiling.

His field was nearly empty – just one monster and one set card. Shioya's deck had turned out to be full of traps, destroying monsters and negating other effects as fast as Jack could gather them. It had cost almost all of his summons for Jack to land a bit of damage, pushing his opponent down to 3100 life points.

Shioya chuckled more eagerly than ever, seeing as Jack only had 1100 life points left. "So, you say your Dark Resonator can withstand destruction in battle once per turn?"

Jack didn't bother replying, standing behind his grinning monster – a tuning-fork-carrying devil wearing a cloak and helmet. (ATK: **1300**)

Shioya shrugged, "Well, I'm sure you did your best." He pretended to straighten a card already on his disk – a small, pink, shapeless blob. (DEF: **500**)

Jack growled, "Coward... Hiding behind a monster that can't be destroyed by any amount of battle."

"Thank you for reminding me – yes, Marshmallon _does_ have that power." Shioya finished laughing, then took both cards in his hand and said, "I'll set these and end my turn." Now, he had three unknown cards set, plus one trap lingering face-up, his defense monster, and a creature named Bountiful Artemis. This last monster was an ivory humanoid statue with angelic wings but a robotic lack of legs or a face. (ATK: **1600**)

Jack's thoughts whirled. _He's emptied his hand again. If only I can break through, just one time...!_ "It's my turn! Draw!" He swung the card up to look at it, nodding. "I summon Mad Daemon in attack position!" His new creature was a fiend with shaggy pink hair, with its lower body dressed like a clown while its upper body was made of mismatched bones and sinew. (ATK: **1800**)

"Good for you, Mr. Atlas – another halfway-decent monster."

"That's enough! Mad Daemon – destroy his Bountiful Artemis!" The fiend spread its arms wide, and its wrinkled chest contorted until a toothy mouth opened in that span of flesh. The teeth chomped and gnashed, churning up a storm of white fragments. Jack called, "Bone Splash!" and his daemon expelled a wave of teeth at its target.

"Counter trap – Attack Nullification!" One of Shioya's face-down cards flipped up, and a spherical barrier surrounded his entire field. The biting attack hit the barrier, dispersing and vanishing harmlessly. "This card negates your attack and ends your entire Battle Phase," crowed Shioya as the shield ended its effect. "And now that yet another of my counter traps has worked, Artemis lets me draw yet another card!"

With clenched teeth, Jack spat, "No! I've had enough of that effect! Permanent trap, activate – Daemon's Chain!" Dark candles surrounded Artemis, and a length of black chain began winding around them and the constructed fairy. "Your trapped monster won't be able to attack, use its effect, or be released for a sacrifice!"

"Nice try, Mr. Atlas. Counter trap – Seven Tools of the Bandit!" (LP: -1000 = **2100**) "By paying a few life points, your trap is negated and destroyed!"

Jack cursed as his card's chains began to shake, and in a moment, the links snapped apart, and every part of his trap shattered to pieces.

Shioya laughed uproariously as his face-up trap glowed in addition to his winged fairy. "That's _another_ counter trap, so I'll draw another card. And, of course, my Synthetic Angel permanent trap comes in again to give me a Synthetic Angel Token for each counter trap!" He drew twice, and two spheres of light floated from his trap. The lights faded to reveal two winged metal spheres. (DEF: **300** x2)

_Damn it!_ Jack ground his teeth. _How am I supposed to get to him?_

"Are you done, Mr. Atlas? It's been fun, but I must be getting along soon."

Jack's jaw dropped. "You... you think this is all _fun?_"

"It's as fun as anything else I've seen in Satellite."

"I can't believe you... is that how you treat this whole business of yours – like a _game?_"

"More of a sport, Mr. Atlas. Neo Domino's far too stuffy. In a place like this, I can really cut loose and shake things up!"

"That's enough from you! This. Is. My. _Home_. You have no right to just play with our lives! Especially mine!" Seizing most of the cards from his hand, he declared, "I set two cards! And I change Dark Resonator to defense position!" The fiend crouched and held its tuning fork on guard. (DEF: **300**) "End turn. Now fight back if you can!"

Shioya kept his expression steady as he reached for his deck. "Now you'll see what my cards can really do."

"Enough about your cards, you weak old man."

Shioya's hand stopped, and he clenched his jaw before hissing, "_What_ did you say?"

"Strong cards are part of a strong duel," Jack boomed, "but they do not make the duelist." Pointing to his heart, Jack declared, "The drive to succeed... begins here! And if a duelist devotes himself, his deck will answer! Whereas you have no more devotion than your store-bought deck!"

Shioya choked, his eyes twitching as he glared at Jack. Then, his jaw closed again, and he snarled, "Impudent, flea-bitten _whelp!_ I draw!" He stared at his card, and he smiled, chuckling again. "Now... I activate Reincarnation of the Dead! I discard a card in exchange for a monster from my cemetery!"

Jack's thoughts whirled. _His cemetery is full of monsters that took time for me to defeat._

"I choose... Herald of the Orange Light!"

"What? That low-level fairy? You discarded that one long ago!"

Shioya put the monster onto his disk, and the summoning light delivered an orange gem with matching wings and slender white metal arms. (ATK: **300**)

Jack began to smile again. "You've filled your field with monsters that can't even beat my Dark Resonator!"

"I don't blame you for not understanding, with you being a Satellite resident and all." Seeing Jack's indignant reaction, Shioya gloated, "My newest fairy is a _tuner_ monster."

"A... tuner?"

"And now, I'll make you see what power truly is. I'll show you a card you've never seen before! Go – I tune my level-four Bountiful Artemis and both level-one Synthetic Angel Tokens to my level-two Herald of Orange Light!"

Jack watched all of the fairies take flight, fascinated by such an advanced move.

The orange crystalline monster transformed into two green stars that flew in tight orbits until they formed two parallel circles. All three of the other fairies entered the column of green rings, glowed at every edge, and released a total of six more stars. These stars aligned, running through the center of the rings, and in that instant, a beam of white light ignited and overwhelmed everything.

The air exploded with fire, and Jack yelled in shock, covering his eyes. A blast of heat hammered his body, and he began to hear a rumbling growl. He tried to focus and look forward, seeing the shape of the dark monster appearing from the flames... and his breath died in his throat.

Above him, there flew a mighty dragon with a muscular black body armored with dark red scales. Every layer of scales formed rigid edges, and the countless sharp points on its long arms and legs were matched only by the piercing bony claws it wielded on its hands and feet. Its wings swung wide with scarred leathery expanse, and its long black tail thrashed the ground.

But Jack's eyes had magnetized to where its long neck ended in a growling head that stared deeply into him. He beheld the dragon's curved horns, razor teeth, and blazing yellow eyes. There Jack stood, stunned into silence by this creature, and he winced when the dragon opened its maw and roared with thunderous dominion.

Shioya pointed skyward to it. "Synchro summon! Behold the symbol of my power – Red Daemon's Dragon!" The dragon flapped its wings as the fire dispersed from its body. (ATK: **3000**)

Jack whispered, "Red Daemon's Dragon... Why does my heart shake when I see you?"

Shioya laughed to see Jack's awe, but then, he glimpsed something that made his voice catch and fade. "What... what's happened to your arm?"

Jack blinked, his senses beginning to return. His right arm had grown very warm, and when he looked at it, he gasped in new shock. "My birthmark!" Lines of red light were shining straight through his long glove, displaying a stylized pair of feathery wings.

The man opposite him grew a little pale. "What... what devilry is that?"

Jack glared back at him. "I've had this mark all my life. Never before has it done this. Explain yourself!"

"I... you... it doesn't matter! You're finished! You only have 1100 life points left, and this attack will take all them in one shot. Go, Red Daemon's Dragon – destroy the Mad Daemon!" The dragon roared again, rearing its hand back and gathering a storm of fire into it. "Absolute Power Force!"

"Mad Daemon's effect – when this monster is attacked, it switches to Defense Position!" The gaunt and bony underworld clown dropped to one knee. (DEF: **0**) "I will survive!"

"Don't be so sure. You've just given me my full power!" The black and red dragon flew down and swung its blazing hand, crushing it into the shrieking daemon and obliterating it instantly. Then, the fire began reforming all around the dragon, swirling through the heated air.

Jack raised a hand protectively. "What is this?"

"Red Daemon's Dragon's effect – after it attacks a defending monster, it destroys _all_ of the opponent's defending monsters!"

"Can it be–?" The fire pounded across the field, and Dark Resonator began groaning with pain.

"Destroy it _now!_" The dragon slammed both hands into the ground, blasting waves of fire in every direction and wiping out the small squeaking fiend.

Jack's arms fell to his sides. "This monster..."

"And now to finish _you_ off!"

"You... you can't. Unless this monster can attack twice?"

"Hah – it's not _that_ good. But I've got just the plan. Go, trap card – Desperado Battle!" His last face-down card flipped up, and he gloated, "I can decrease its attack power by 1000 for this turn to give it that second attack!" The dragon swung its hand back and began regathering some of its fire. (ATK: -1000 = **2000**)

Jack's mouth closed, and his breathing grew calm. "Yes. This is the way this dragon fights." He raised his right fist, with his birthmark still glowing. "Red Daemon's Dragon! I accept your battle!"

The dragon roared in return and leapt across the field.

Jack reached for his disk. "Activate trap – Ray of Hope!" Then, he clenched both fists, holding them wide. "Red Daemon's Dragon, attack me now!" He continued yelling even before the fiery hand slammed down upon him.

Power exploded around the blond duelist, with fire and noise and rage storming in every direction. In the devastation's heart, he stood as tall as he could, gritting his teeth, groaning, and taking it all directly onto himself. Above him, the dragon began crushing both hands onto the opposing human, snarling and glaring down. With one final roar, it slammed its power onto its target, covering the entire field in destructive fire.

It lifted its arms and flew back, letting the field slowly calm and clear. The fire and smoke receded bit by bit, and there stood Jack, with wisps of smoke rising from him, but still standing straight. (LP: -1000 = **100**)

Shioya gaped in shock. "What did you do?"

Jack closed his eyes and took a deep breath, holding it. All at once, he exhaled, and his violet eyes flashed open to meet the yellow stare of his giant opponent. He gave one slow and deliberate nod, and only then did he answer Shioya. "Ray of Hope halves damage that would have been 1500 or more."

Shioya sneered in response.

"Then, I can summon a level-one monster from my hand." He took up his last card and called, "I summon Dark Sprocketer." His charred field gained a black metal cylinder, which was coiled in a long chain that spiraled around it, trailing off its lower end and curling like a tail. (DEF: **0**)

"You... have bought yourself another turn. But that won't last you long."

"You're right!" barked Jack with vigor that made his opponent jump. "The duel ends on this turn! With Red Daemon's Dragon in play, there can be no other end!"

"What are you babbling about? This dragon is my monster! It will defeat you when I say it will!"

"You're wrong, Shioya. You have no idea what power you've tried to harness. That dragon will end the duel on its own terms, not yours! You can't control it any more than you could have hoped to control Satellite!"

"I already control Satellite! Nobody else comes close to my authority. _That's_ my power!"

Jack sneered and spat, "Despicable."

"Enough from you!" He took the last card from his own hand. "I set one card to end my turn." Fire began swirling around the dragon again. "Red Daemon's Dragon's other effect is that it destroys any of my monsters that didn't attack this turn, so that's the end of my Marshmallon. But my time for defense is finished. Now, you face the last attack."

Jack felt the light of his birthmark glowing brighter, and his heart swelled with exhilaration. "Yes... I do." He swung his hand. "Activate trap – Nightmare Daemons!" His last trap rose up, and his last monster vanished in a billowing cloud of green smoke.

"You... you sacrificed your own defense?"

"This trap costs one of my monsters, and it summons three Nightmare Daemon Tokens!" Three dark shapes began leaping and laughing within the cloud.

Shioya studied them closely, but he gasped when all three of them sprang to within a few feet of him. There the black imps stood, with skinny limbs and fingers, barbed tails, and shocks of white hair above their red-eyed smiles. (ATK: **2000** x3) "Why are they here? You mean your trap summons them to _my_ side?"

"Yes."

He recovered his poise, wiping off some sweat and giving a thin smile. "Well, thank you, Mr. Atlas."

"Have you forgotten already? They didn't attack, so they're about to be destroyed."

The fire began swirling higher and faster, and Red Daemon's Dragon turned in midair to look down at the man who had summoned it. Shioya grew uneasy again, for all three fiends had begun cackling and prancing in the flowing fire. "What are they..."

"Their final effect – when a Nightmare Daemon Token is destroyed, its controller takes 800 damage!"

"What? ...No, _no, NO!_" Red Daemon's Dragon roared to the sky, swung up both its fists of streaming fire, and slammed them into the ground before Shioya. An explosion engulfed him and all of the monsters around him. When the fiends burst, they became maniacal green and orange burning versions of themselves, and they leapt upon the screaming man. Dragon and daemons alike cried out in triumph as searing fire devoured the man's agony. (LP: -2400 = **0**)

Jack watched without a word until the fire burnt itself out. When it did, he saw the suited man opposite him collapse to the ground with no sound but a dull thump. He looked up just soon enough to see Red Daemon's Dragon turn its head.

The dragon looked back at him, grunted with a brief rumble, and vanished.

Jacks stood in silence, then realized that the cord stretching from his duel disk had retracted. He looked back at his fallen opponent, walking closer and winding the cord up. Sure enough, Shioya's disk had been wrecked by the cuff's destructive charge. The noise must have been lost in that last burst of power...

Jack's eyes fastened on the card resting unharmed atop the cracked disk's platform. There lay the synchro monster, and Jack reached down, picking it up with care. "Red Daemon's Dragon..." he whispered. He could almost hear that deep roar...

Then, he turned. He heard a more definite sound: the wail of police sirens. Satellite featured this sound often enough, but Jack decided he didn't want any part of their investigation. He paused long enough to loosen the tie from Shioya's neck, tying the old man's hands behind his back. After immobilizing his thugs similarly, he strode away from the scene.

He gave the salvaged deck away in equal stacks to the first group of kids he saw. He brushed off their thanks, feeling better when the cards had left his fingers.

But his heart beat all the faster at the thought of the one card now occupying a special place in his deck. He walked with a steady stride, holding his hands in his pockets. The streetlamps washed like flickering spotlights over the duel disk on his left arm and the tingling, warm glove on his right arm.

He followed the streetlamps for as long as they lasted, then kept going down the street until he disappeared into the distance completely.


	3. Strength with Courage

The crowd of young boys yelled and shoved as they all strove to kick the same soccer ball. Their enthusiasm rang out as they collided into a shapeless mob.

Then, the coach blew his whistle, and the boys let out a mixture of dismayed groans and triumphant cheers as the huddle broke apart. Gradually, the boys spread out to stand in a line.

One boy dashed forward and booted the ball heartily.

The whistle peeped again. "Rua!" barked the coach. "The session has ended. Take your place immediately!"

The other boys snickered and whispered around the teal-ponytailed subject. Rua straightened up and gave a low and hurried bow. "Sorry, sir." With deeper pink in his cheeks, he sprang into the line.

The coach surveyed them all, finally dismissing the group.

Within minutes, the boys had put their school uniforms back on and were rushing from the building on their way home. Rua lingered on the edges of the crowd, searching the grounds, scanning faces. Nobody caught his interest, so he ran to sit on a bench, digging a notebook and pen out of his backpack. His fingers flung the book open, and he paused for a quick thought before grinning and scribbling on the page.

The school doors opened again, and two more boys exited, laughing with each other. One boy's eyes swept the scenery, and he swung one lanky arm to catch his friend's shoulder. "Hey, check it out."

The other boy, taller and with broader shoulders, followed where his friend looked. "He's back again? Nice." Both of them swaggered along the pavement towards the lone boy.

Rua kept drawing until he saw shadows fall across the page. Only then did he look up, and his yellow eyes widened at the sight of the taller boy. He gulped and breathed, "T- Takano..." He saw the other, slimmer boy lurking above him. "Nakamura..."

Takano smiled. "Hey there, Rua-kun. What're you working on?"

"N- nothing." He shut the notebook and reached for his bag.

Nakamura's hand shot out and yanked the notebook from his grasp.

"Hey! Give that back!"

With one hand, Takano pushed Rua back to his seat, smiling.

Nakamura leafed through the pages. "Drawing in your math notebook? Not good, Rua-kun. And what are these things anyway?" He held out the last few pages, covered with an assortment of shapes.

Takano laughed, "Is that one in the middle some kind of dwarf?"

Rua muttered, "It's a swordsman."

"No, no – that's clearly a dwarf with a club. And that one's a big, scary rat."

"That's an _attack dog_," said Rua with gritted teeth, struggling to get up again.

Takano shoved him back down. "Don't you remember how to use a pen, Rua-kun? Hold it firmly, with bold strokes. Go on, use those skinny hands of yours!"

As Nakamura turned another page, a sheet of paper slipped out of the notebook's front cover.

Rua lunged for it, but Takano repelled him once more and scooped up the page. "Well, well – look here. Rua-kun's entering a card-designing contest!"

Nakamura lifted an eyebrow. "I should've known. This here's the work of a genius!" He reached the last page, and he paused. "Oh, yeah – _this_ looks impressive." He displayed the page for all to see.

Takano laughed, "Looks like some kind of bird-man!"

"Oh, for sure. With a neck like that, I'd say it's at least half-swan."

"It's a _dragon!_" wailed Rua, a bit of a sob catching in his voice. He kept his eyes on his latest drawing, refusing to look anywhere else. Okay, maybe the neck was kind of long, but the wings... suddenly, he realized he'd drawn them bat-shaped... and those legs were straight out of his book of dinosaurs–

Takano grabbed the notebook and flung it away. It flew and skidded into the dirt. Before Rua could try to retrieve it, he held up the dog-eared entry form. "Rua, what made you think you could win a contest like this?"

"I– I just wanted–"

"You _wanted_ a real duelist's card. And why? Because you _don't_ have that."

Nakamura shot in, "Not a single real card in your whole deck!"

"True, but not only that. I also mean that you're no real duelist."

Rua tried to sit up straight and to meet their eyes, but he could only stare at the space between them. "I'm a duelist! I can be–"

"_How_ many duels have you won at lessons?" Takano smirked at the silent answer. "Exactly. Take this afternoon, for example." He turned towards Nakamura. "How many monsters did he have after three whole turns?"

"One."

"And his opponent?"

"Three, of course."

"And how many did Rua have on the next turn?"

"None."

"And didn't he _lose_ on that turn?"

"Yeah."

Rua wanted to cover his ears, but he kept his fists pressed into his lap.

"You don't know a thing about monsters. You can't use them. You don't protect them. I'd say you don't care about them."

"I do care!" Rua sobbed. "I c- c- care..."

"You _don't_ care." He took another step forward. "Say it, or I'll rip out every page–"

"Takano." The other boy took his shoulder, nodding towards the doors. Another club had dismissed, with students and faculty strolling out.

Takano crumpled up the form and threw it below Rua's feet. "See you tomorrow, Rua-kun. Good luck with your drawing."

Rua kept his eyes closed tight until their swaggering footsteps faded away. Then, sniffling and wiping his nose on his wrist, he grabbed his backpack, got down, and retrieved his entry form. He ran to his notebook, kneeling there before delicately opening the mangled form. He stared at it and his notebook, sniffling again.

"Rua!"

He looked up to see his twin sister jogging toward him, her eyes bright with alarm. Quickly, he dusted off his notebook, slipped the form back into it, and shoved it into his backpack as he stood to greet her. "Hi, Ruka."

"What happened to you?"

"Nothing."

She regarded him sidelong, eyebrow raised. "What _happened_, Rua?"

"_Nothing_. Let's go home." He turned and plodded away, not looking as she walked with him.

In a few minutes, they reached the public bus stop. Rua's eyes had not left the sidewalk in all that time.

Ruka stood alongside him, darting glances at him but saying nothing.

"Ruka?" He lifted his eyes to stare straight at her. "When I duel... do I protect my monsters?"

Her breath caught, and she didn't meet his stare.

"I don't, do I? That's what you think?"

"I wouldn't say that–"

"_Everyone_ says that! Rua, the wannabe duelist, right? Rua's silly toy machine deck – that's what they say! I... I just picked monsters I like... but that's not good enough, is it?!"

"Rua, please calm down–"

"And now this!" He pulled out his notebook and waved it at her.

Her eyes fastened on it and then opened a bit. "Is this about that _contest?_"

He sagged. "I just... I wanted to create a card that'd give me a chance. Something new, something that'd let me show what I can do. But I shouldn't have thought that." He opened it, slowly and listlessly turning pages, one by one. "I don't need a new card. I should've thought more about my old monsters."

Her eyes kept straying to the pages, to all the drawings he had kept so fiercely secret for the past few days. Then, she focused on him. "Rua, you _can_ create something new."

"...You're just saying that."

"Oh, come on, Rua. You, not being creative?" She gave him a half-smile. "Most of the time, I can't get you to _stop_ being such a daydreamer."

He looked up at her, half glare and half wonder.

"Well, it's true."

With an electric hum, the bus pulled up to the stop, and they joined the press of people jostling through the door, flashing their passes to the driver's scanner, and squeezing onto seats. Then, the bus hummed back to life and swung back onto the road.

Rua's eyes wandered around the surrounding cityscape. Everywhere, the sheen of metal and glass reflected sunlight, turning skyscrapers and cars into glittering displays. Everything looked so big, so new, so strong and mighty. No block castle he'd ever built compared to such creations. His eyes fastened on a construction site a few blocks away, girders forming into an intricate array of steel. "I want..."

Ruka glanced at him.

He thought of his team of machines, of the countless card combinations he wanted to use but had never gathered. _I _do_ care! I'll find a way that they can work!_ Then, he thought of his drawings, the many different shapes that had popped into his head. _I'll make... I'll make..._ "I'll make a _robot_ dragon!"

Ruka blinked, taken aback. "A _robot_ dragon? Rua, why would you–"

"It'll be super-strong and super-_duper_-tough! It can fight off anything!" His eyes leapt over the army of construction workers, with their heavy machinery moving masses of steel into place like playthings. His smile reformed, brightening his face. "And it can _make_ anything! A card just for building combos! Yeah... yeah, it can bring out parts of cards, like puzzle pieces, so if you've already got part of it–" He punched a fist into his other hand. "Bam! You've got the whole thing!" He grinned in anticipation, and then he dug into his pockets, pulled out a pen, and flung open his notebook to a fresh page. "It'll have steel scales and big claws and strong arms and legs–"

Ruka sighed with a smile of her own, and then she put an arm around her brother's shoulder.

He leaned into her, mumbling, "Thanks." Then, he started drawing, with sweeping curves and sharp edges taking shape on the paper.

The bus turned a corner, and the construction site vanished from view. Ruka looked out the window, catching the barest uppermost glimpse of the high-rise apartment complex known as Tops. Happily, she knew that they still had a long ride to go until they reached their home.

/ / /

_Author's Note_

_First off, thank you for the reviews!_

_You raised an excellent point about Rua. __The short and spoiler-free reply is: I do respect him, but this is a prequel. He's a lot more fragile at the start of the series than at the end, and this story is all about beginnings, not ends. That said, I revised the chapter to make Ruka treat him more kindly and to highlight how much he cheers up for his new idea - a cool idea that is entirely in his spirit, I feel._

_(Also, I invite you to read my ongoing "Adult Supervision" story, where the twins grow up looking for strength and companionship, finding those virtues in each other.)_

_The long explanation of this chapter involves spoilers and is... well, long. If you're interested in hearing it (and that goes for anyone!), send me a PM. Rua's a great hero and a wonderful kid with big ideas and more than enough courage to tackle them. I'm happy to give him room to be him._


	4. Become Eternal

The man crept through the field of burnt rubble, darting from night shadow to further shadow as quickly as he could navigate the rough earth. His work boots collided with scattering rocks, and occasionally, he slipped on downward slopes. He cursed the twinge in his sore knees, but he soldiered on regardless, always looking forwards.

He had long since lost his need to check behind himself for pursuers, and tonight of all nights, his eyes kept seeking ahead.

He grinned and exhaled in relief when he cleared one more stone ridge and saw the glow of lanterns and flashlights below him. He descended, skidding down to the clearing.

The men already at the bottom ceased talking and all turned towards him. Their hands were empty but motionless, each of them inches from a belt or pocket.

The last man to arrive felt the switchblade in his own pocket, but his hands were empty as he hailed the group, "It's all safe. I'm here and ready, everyone."

They relaxed, their glares softening back to customary frowns. One man answered, "Good to see you, Demak."

"And you, Norio. Our night's finally come... Has Hirano arrived?" He didn't wait for an answer – which no one bothered to give – surveying the ringed group in a moment. Three were missing: Hirano, of course, but also those two chosen men. "Do you think they've started yet?"

Another man snorted, "Are you worried already?"

Demak's lip curled up. "I've got nothing to fear–"

"Exactly. After all–" he chuckled, "we all know how it's going to end."

Deep, rough laughter swept the ring, and Demak joined in.

"So," added Norio, "who's up for a celebration?" He gestured to the small tin pot of soup, already bubbling over a camping burner.

Demak took out his contribution: one pack of salted fish, earning a few grins. The new ingredient raised a smoky aroma that made every mouth water. They gathered around the pot, and the lanterns at their backs threw their smiling faces into shadow as they waited with sharpening excitement.

Norio dipped a spoon in to check the soup, but no sooner had he raised it than everyone heard, "Welcome, brothers." They all stepped back and away to face the man who had arrived so silently. This man wore a black cloak, contrasting with their appearances, which ranged from rough denim clothes and heavy jackets to khaki slacks with button-down shirts. The man's glasses flickered in the scattered light.

Demak called, "Good evening, Hirano-san."

The man drew a mug out from his cloak, holding it out to Norio, who filled it without a word. Sipping the soup, he smiled. "Good."

Everyone else relaxed, took out their own mugs, and got their shares. They took up their places in the ring, gulping the hot meal as swiftly as they could swallow.

Hirano continued sipping, and his eyes flickered around the group. "Takahiro. You are more agitated than usual."

The formerly-silent man choked a bit, then forced down his mouthful. "No, sir." He shook a bit, and his face showed more sweat than the cold night would have caused.

"Speak. Now."

"Well, Hirano-san... I just can't believe we've finally made it to tonight."

Hirano raised an eyebrow. "Can't you?"

"I– I mean, I've been waiting for this a long time. We all have." He looked around at the silent group. "Everything changes tonight, if–!" He stopped himself.

Demak kept his eyes forward, not looking at the pale man, feeling the silent air chill further.

The cloaked man's gaze held his target unrelentingly. "Be sure, Takahiro – tonight, we will change the _world_. But," and here his voice emptied itself of feeling, "there is no 'if.' I have told it, as I always have."

The sweating man gulped and struggled to meet that gray gaze.

"Do you still doubt? You have seen what successes I've brought you. Here!" He indicated another man. "The most relied-upon manager of loans and debts in all of Satellite."

That man stood all the straighter, a smirk creasing his features.

"Here, a controller of black market supply lines! Here, chief supplier of narcotics! And here," he indicated Demak, "foreman of metalworking for half of Satellite!"

Demak stood very straight, his heart afire at these words. He held a job that should have been his twenty years ago. He'd toiled and sweated, never getting his promotion, always hearing "maybe next year." Then had come _that_ day, when Zero Reverse destroyed everything – his home, his industry, his _life_. He'd had to start from the bottom, all but begging for work. But things had gotten much worse in a hurry. In the following years of insane poverty, nobody wanted to hire a certified engineer. Everyone wanted work done on the cheap, paying nothing, demanding an arm and a leg. Men half his age had snatched up customers wherever they could find them. Just when he'd thought he had it made, he'd landed in the rat race all over again.

"All of them, and you as well, raised to where they belong – and how?" Hirano threw back his cloak, holding the tattered book in one hand. "Because of my knowledge."

Demak gazed in amazement, remembering the day that Hirano had approached him, hinting of a chance to get some real leverage on his then-boss. He hadn't believed a word... until Hirano had described some of Demak's own back-alley accomplices. He'd attended the first meeting, in jaw-dropping amazement at how much this man knew about Satellite's seamy workings.

And then, Hirano had cast his first spell, chanting from the book, seeing into a world deeper than Satellite, greater and stronger than anything he'd ever known.

Demak had described all he knew of his boss and the other metal shop owners, and Hirano had given him a picture-perfect account of his boss' "side enterprises." Every one of them would have been a juicy prize for Sector Security, in addition to proving that recent disappearances of certain Security officers had not been accidents.

He'd played his new knowledge carefully, well-advised by Hirano. His boss had promoted him immediately, then again and again. By now, all those "enterprises" belonged to this group, and that former boss... was well out of the way.

Now he knew. This guy was the real deal. He knew (Demak chuckled) where all the bodies were buried.

Hirano's free hand clenched into a fist. "We have the heartbeat of Satellite, its every pulse. But would you stop there?" Everyone sneered and protested, and he declared, "No! There's only one way we can settle this." He pointed to the horizon. "_The city._ The city that left us to rot, left us to _die!_ Godwin won't take any Satellite member seriously, but we – are not – just – anyone!" He pointed to various members with each word. "We have what it takes, and tonight, we'll get what we need." He permitted a thin smile. "Weapons. Sector Security couldn't resist contracting their construction to us, even if only in pieces." He smiled at various members of the circle. "Now, we hold all of those factories. The entire chain of assembly is ours – all but the one factory the city decided to keep to itself. Tonight, brothers – tonight, we'll get it all. There will be a few deaths, but... they won't concern us."

Demak could already see it. Tonight, Neo Domino City would be taking an import of raw materials and molds for their factory. His group had one man on the inside of Security and another in charge of the shipping offices. Each of them had their own accomplices – two or three who could be trusted and were in line for membership. The rest were men who wouldn't be missed. Between them all, they'd take the entire shipment. Security would go crazy, but they'd never know who was really responsible.

The cloaked man opened the book to a blood-stained page. "Tonight... Join me, brothers. Open your minds." He began to read and chant, and the men around him shook with head-pounding visions of blackness, of swirling clouds, of quaking earth, of dying groans, of pillars of fire bursting from the rock–

A strangled cry broke from one side of the circle, and rapid footsteps skidded down the rock slope. A man in a sweat-soaked blue and grey uniform dropped into the lantern light, staggering the last few steps.

Most of the men yelled in shock when they recognized the officer, and Hirano looked up from his book. "Yuji? What are you doing here?"

"I'm..." he gasped. "I'm sorry... Hirano-san..." He sucked in a deep breath. "We had all our boats ready to take over the shipment, but then I found out that Sector Security doubled the escort! We couldn't get near it. By the time our men tried to retreat, the helicopters had already found them."

"No..." breathed Hirano.

Demak felt cold and hollow, and his legs shook. He felt like the ground had collapsed out from under him.

Hirano kept his face stern. "This couldn't happen... We had over a dozen men. One Security officer would die, followed by the crew and witnesses – I predicted it!"

"They took out an officer, yes, Hirano-san. But then... then Security opened fire. They destroyed the boats, drowning everyone we hired, and they captured the rest."

"_Captured?!_" Hirano's eyes widened, and Demak thought his heart would stop. "They have our members? They could–" He stopped and stared at nothing.

Men all around the ring began shaking fists and yelling, "Yuji, you stupid son of a bitch!" "We're screwed, we're all screwed..." "They'll break them, they'll figure out who we are–"

Demak took a slow step forward. "Hirano-san... what do we do?"

Takahiro heard this and yelled, "How could this happen? We did everything you told us to do! And now we've got Security breathing down our necks!"

Norio spoke up, "Yuji... you weren't followed, were you?"

Every voice died, and the shadows around them felt too cold, too thin to hide what would be an army of searchlights sweeping over the horizon. The men began yelling and looking everywhere, turning as if to flee, panic sweeping the ring–

"Silence!" Hirano stood up straight sweeping a pointing hand at all of them. "This isn't over. We are not finished."

"The hell we aren't!" Takahiro yelled. "You and your stinking book–"

Hirano slammed the book closed, dropped it to the ground, and pulled a long knife from his robe.

A few men stepped back, drawing their own knives, but they froze when Hirano put the knife to the back of his forearm and cut one clear slit into his flesh. Someone said, "What the hell–"

Their leader went back to his pocket and pulled out a card, pressing it to the bleeding wound and intoning a chain of harsh and guttural syllables. His eyes ignited with purple light, flickering and dancing like fire, and the same burning hue ignited around his hand. Chanting and gazing beyond the ring of men, he held out his hand, now full of a swirling sphere of purple flames.

No man dared speak or even move. A few of them dropped their knives, which hit the earth with dull clanks.

His sightless eyes pierced each man in turn. "Do you doubt?"

They yelled as one. "No, Hirano-san!"

"We have one chance remaining. We require a weapon, power that the city cannot stop. We shall have it. You have learned much about death in this place. Do you fear it?"

They shook their heads, unspeaking.

"Our demon of the underworld waits to enter this realm. I shall bring forth its full power... in exchange for... one life among us."

They stopped breathing.

He held out the card he'd smeared with his blood, and several more cards flew from his pocket. They all began spiraling around each other, glowing and then burning with the purple light. "Each of you will take one. The marked card will find the marked man." Silence stretched in response, and he sneered. "Obey! Either you take this chance, or else you'll be purged like insects. Approach and choose!"

Demak stumbled over his own feet to reach the spiraling fiery cards, as did every man. He put out his hand, his eyes darting between them all, searching, wishing–

He took a card.

Every card found someone's hand, and the fires scorched for an agonizing moment before vanishing.

As Demak's fingers convulsed, he felt something warm, sticky, and dark on the card. He dropped it with a cry, and every eye fastened on him.

"You are chosen, Demak." He raised his knife again.

"No! No, no, please, no!" He tried to turn and run, but footsteps overtook him, hands grabbed his shoulders and arms, wheeled him around. Someone clubbed him aside his head, and his entire world spun off balance. He slumped to his knees, blackness washing over his vision, and someone pulled his shirt open, baring his neck to the approaching cold bite of steel–

The ground shook like the impact of a hammer, and the air split with the mighty cracking of rocks in every direction. Fire burst from the shattering earth, tall fire, fierce fire... fire of the same blinding purple color that had appeared in miniature.

Demak fell to the ground, shaking, unfeeling but for the ache in his neck as black numbness clouded his head and everything around him.

All the other men gazed around them in shock. The fire had surrounded them completely, forming a circle over a hundred meters across.

Then came the voice – deep, booming, splitting their skulls. "Who summons me?"

They cowered, and even their leader struggled to rally himself. "I, Hirano Koji, summon you!"

"You seek great power – all of you." Small cries of agreement met the silence before the voice added. "Only the worthy may hold my power."

Hirano stood up straight and declared, "See us, and know our worth!"

"We shall all see." One slim bolt of fire leapt from the surrounding inferno, crossing the sky in a slender but sharp line. Then more and more lines shot into the sky, crisscrossing everywhere overhead. Finally, one more line shot very low over the men, striking the top of a high pile of wrecked rocks some distance away from them. It left a violet ember atop the stone mound, bright and unfading. "If you would hold my power, then approach this fragment of it. Only the first man who takes hold of it will be worthy."

Only the sounds of hungry flames filled the air. Then, every man at once leapt and shoved and ran towards the mound.

Takahiro pushed Hirano aside, gaining the lead, dashing headlong with powerful strides. His lead widened further–

A purple line shot from the crisscrossing bolts overhead, lancing straight into his path. It struck him in the back, and he yelled in shock, which then choked off into silence as he swung to a halt. The purple line was a solid strand of what seemed to be thread, and it had pierced his body, striking the ground and fastening there, skewering him in place. Half-standing, he gagged and gasped, and blood began seeping from his chest, filling his lungs. Choking and half-clutching the thread, he sagged like a puppet, falling still and silent.

Some of the other men recoiled from the sight, but other kept running. All around them, more threads shot down from the sky, striking the earth as the men yelled and dodged around them. Left and right, front and back, the storm of thread rained down upon them.

One line pierced a man's leg, and he fell to the earth with a scream. He tried to push himself up, and his voice trailed off. Then, he screamed again, for his hands were covered in crawling spiders.

Another man ran straight into a pair of lines and became caught by their adhesive surfaces. He yelled as he felt the spiders crawling up his pants, and dozens of jaws pierced his flesh. Then, he yelled again as he felt countless searing burns spreading from the many bites.

The handful of men who reached the stone pillar found it covered in a tower of webbing, and then they found it seething with armies of spiders. They leapt back, swatting and stomping and flailing at the creatures. Only Hirano tried to climb the web, and the arachnids swarmed across his hands, body, and screaming face immediately.

Cries of terror and moans of agony echoed around the valley, and second by second, the sounds became more scattered and faint. Presently, the voice boomed, "You are weak. None of you is worthy. You will never hold my power."

"No! I will!" The fierce voice came from Demak, who had staggered to his feet and begun running across the clearing, shakily but with his eyes set on the mound's peak. He clutched his aching throat at first, but then he let go, freeing himself to run.

"There is another?" echoed the voice. "Then approach, if you can."

Demak ran madly, dodging around the forest of sickly bright threads. His pounding boot-steps crushed spiders in double time. He felt the faint skitter of tiny hairy legs on his calves, and he swatted at them even as he ran, shaking and dislodging most of them but never stopping his run.

Then, he felt the acidic burn shoot up through his leg, followed by a chill of numbness. He gave that spot a solid slap, hearing the spider squelch beneath his fingers, and he staggered onward in a limping, lopsided, galloping gait.

"You are only a man, like all the others," declared the voice. "You have nothing that they did not offer."

Demak did not even look at the bloodied, contorted corpses around him, strewn across the path in front of him. He kept dodging around, dashing forward.

"I see your thoughts. You were never a threat – in Satellite or anywhere else."

He felt two more bites pierce his other leg. He swatted them – or tried to – before he lurched around the last of the thread barriers and into full view of the mound.

"Your days of authority are over. Your life ends here."

He groaned as he hobbled to the mound, seeking just one clear route.

"Everything you had will pass to other humans, who will care nothing for you."

Gritting his teeth, he grasped a web-choked rock surface and began to climb.

"They will pick over your corpse like so many crows, feeding your flesh to their hungry chicks."

"No!" Demak yelled. He flung his hand aside, casting away the spiders clinging to it. "Not me. _Not me._ I'm too close – aah!" He felt numerous stings piercing his arm, and his hand cramped up.

"Close to success? Close to the city, the prize to fulfill all your needs?" Deep laughter echoed from everywhere. "It was never yours to take. _See._"

His eyes widened. Up towards the distant rock peak, he saw a vision of blue skies, gleaming skyscrapers, humming vehicles, and bustling people. He tried to catch his breath and climb, but his faltering hands and feet searched blindly, his eyes unable to tear away from the sight before him.

"It is the monument of men and women who hold the power in your world. Everything they have taken from you, they have kept – because to them, it was never yours in the first place."

"No," he grunted, climbing one more step even as his other hand seized up.

"It never was and never will be yours. They do not see you. They do not speak of you."

Spiders crawled over every inch of his arms and legs. He felt nothing but pain, barely able to reach above his head.

"And in less than a year, no one will know you existed."

He gazed up, eyes shivering, now beholding the city's people in motion, from old ones to adults to young ones – all walking away from him.

"What you have, they keep, as will their children, and _their_ children. They will neither know nor care anything for what you ever had, what you did, who you were."

Croaking and gasping, he gazed in agony, unable to move even a hand through the veil of webbing, unable to reach towards the figures. All that were left were the children, their smiles turned away from him, their eyes never glimpsing him, all moving away, leaving him behind.

"You will disappear, food for their world, and their children will thank their parents for their greatness."

"**_NO!_**" He reached both hands up, seized the web before him, and pulled. He grasped it and pulled it with a primal shout that burst from the deepest core of his body, pulling down, down, _down_.

The thread strained, the rocks groaned, and all at once, the rubble tore apart. Stones exploded from their places, avalanching in crashing waves, and threads burst their anchors, flying in every direction.

Demak roared at the sight as he pulled the mountain of stone down around himself. The sight of light and people vanished into a chaotic cacophony of debris rushing past, and still he stood and brought more of it down.

The stone shattered upon the earth, raising dust and ash before finally, gradually, falling still. The noise abated, and the dust began to disperse. There, knee-deep in destruction, stood Demak, panting with his arms still half-raised.

Then, his eyes descended from above and lit upon the spark of purple light nearly buried in stone fragments. Sucking in deep breaths, he pulled his legs free, scrambling across the rocks, pushing with both hands and feet until he reached the spot. He dug in, flinging rocks aside to reveal the shard of fire, and he seized it. "Yes!" he yelled, holding it high and laughing like his lungs would burst.

A new sound made him wheel around to face its source. Two feet strode calmly across the clearing, and the approaching man applauded slowly and steadily. "Well done, Demak."

"Who... that voice– _you?_" He studied the man – fit body, strong arms, short hair that might have been blond but had gone ashen gray. The man's black cloak and clothing were all trimmed with red lines, but more striking was the devouring expression in his eyes.

"Yes. Me." He marched across the rocks to reach the awestruck man.

Demak felt a shock at the sight of the man's eyes – where whiteness should have surrounded the centers, only blackness remained. "Who _are_ you?"

"I am Rudger, and you have passed my test." He raised his arm, which glowed with the outline of a spider, etched in bright purple fire.

"All of this was yours?"

"I hold power beyond this world. Other men have barely touched its edges, for it is only granted to those that can use it, such as myself... and you."

The faintest hints of a smile flitted across Demak's face.

Rudger rested a hand on Demak's shoulder. "You have become that which you are meant to be, beyond your old life."

"My old life?" Then, he remembered a previous sensation of pain, and he examined his throat. The blood was gone. So was all warmth and all feeling. He touched only cold skin and muscle, a coldness that pervaded his entire body, his limbs, his _head..._

He saw Rudger's smile sharpen, and Demak knew that his own eyes had turned black as well.

"Welcome to the Dark Signers, Demak. The world is ours to take – and a special world belongs to you, if you dare to take it."

"To me?" He smiled, held a fist over his heart and said, "I'll do it! Where is it?"

"It is a world that neighbors the human world, untouched by human life, with civilization but little technology."

Demak grinned. "A soft target."

"Ah, but they have a leader: a dragon, the one guardian between them and ruin."

"How can I kill it?"

"She is already in your grasp."

He looked at the burning object in his hand, and the fire dispersed to reveal what it held. A card lay in his hand, bearing the image of a dragon with long blue legless body, slender arms and hands, and grand butterfly wings. The dragon's face featured a red and gold mask, elegant but reserved.

"Behold their matron, your prisoner, and your key to conquest." He studied Demak's wondrous expression. "Now, the battle may be difficult. She has many allies."

Demak glared up at these words.

Rudger smiled. "There will be a few woodland animals, plus quite a few fairies, of course."

He grinned again. "More soft targets – an open hunting season."

"There will also be a human ally."

"A bold warrior?"

"Someone from the city."

He grinned more broadly.

"A female child, in fact."

"Perfect."

"Then receive the power of your new existence, Dark Signer Demak!"

The violet fire flared on Demak's arm, tracing the outline of a long-tailed monkey. His eyes fastened on the card he held in both his hands, and he laughed to behold it. "Ancient Fairy Dragon... you're _mine_."

/ / /

Author's Note

_*To the guest* Yep, that's the idea: one story for each dragon._

_ As for that particular dragon, I'm guessing you know at least a bit of its backstory. I believe I can do the most justice to it by writing a whole separate story. That will be the "Cross My Heart" story – which will have a better title once it's done._


	5. Chilling Flames

"Rose Flame activates, burning away your worthless life!" A giant blast of spiraling fire exploded from her hand. Strands of flame whipped away from the rushing blaze, lashing the pavement in every direction and cracking the concrete, and the main fiery stream struck the scarred man, engulfing his entire body.

He screamed as the flames tore at his skin, ripping and scorching his already-tattered clothing. The duel disk on his wrist gave a depleted beep as his legs buckled, and he collapsed without another noise, hitting the wrecked pavement.

The remaining holograms vanished – an assortment of plant creatures and enchantments – and the crowd yelled its usual combination of savage cheers and shocked shouts. Their noise almost drowned out the cries of dismay from the three men that ran to the fallen duelist, kneeling near him, trying to lift him up, pleading with him to say something.

All of the crowd's noise washed around the duelist who remained standing. She wore a black robe that covered her from head to foot, with a full-length cloak flung back from her shoulders. This cloak led up to her raised hood, and within that, her blank white mask stared unforgivingly at her latest victim. "You lose, trash."

The fallen man stirred and groaned, wincing as he began to sit up, propped up by his buddies. Only after a few seconds could he pry his eyes open to look at her.

She strode towards him, her cloak sweeping the ground. "That was a warning. Learn to hold your tongue." She loomed over him, motionless for the moment.

He sneered, and one of his supporters made a fist and began to stand. Immediately, another of the men grabbed the defiant one by the shoulder, dragging him back down. Between the four of them, the men gathered a handful of money and held it out to her.

She took it all, turned on her heel, and strode away without looking back. Bystanders scattered from her approach, and other men and women called, "Black Rose Witch!" She would not look at any of them, and she did not heed their wild praise, which resounded atop an undercurrent of muttered challenges and veiled threats. She strode onward and out of the lot – the Daimon Area – flanked on every side by buildings of common brick, lit by the fiery orange intensity of sunset's final efforts.

The sounds of the crowd and their other duels receded behind her, and she only heard the ragged edges of her cloak fluttering in the breeze, brushing the litter-strewn sidewalk. Suddenly, she felt a stab of pain as she heard the grumble of her stomach. Behind her mask, she gritted her teeth and tried to keep her head clear. _After so many hours on my feet, how can my pocket still feel half-empty?_ There were always men waiting to take a shot at slaying the witch. All she'd wanted was one good target, or even a few more small fry. Every day, the Daimon Area had fresh faces, lured by the smell of victory, or just following the tide of people. Low, slimy, apelike _people_ – shambling around with their arms flexed and their mouths open to brag or to gawk. On any day, she could hear their boasts from anywhere in the lot.

She only ever needed a few minutes to make their screams echo even louder.

They never stopped coming. It no longer surprised her. Wherever she went, heads turned – usually behind her back. People couldn't resist getting a piece of that, couldn't resist jumping into her way to shove her out of the spotlight. Some of them even laughed at her costume, a mistake that always got a few shudders from the crowd and a few bets on whether the poor bastard would leave on his feet or a stretcher. She couldn't believe she'd ever tried to take this place in a school uniform–

No, she would _not_ think of that other life. The day was over. She'd made her keep and wouldn't starve tonight.

The alley dog-legged around a building, and a man in a trench coat stepped out from the shadows. "Good evening, miss Black Rose Witch."

She pivoted to face him, raising her left arm and her duel disk.

"You have had a long day with little to show for it. I am here to make you an offer."

Beneath her mask, her eyes darted across his features. He wore a brand-new duel disk, loaded but inactive. His coat, shoes, and trousers looked new as well. But more striking were his eyes, tinted gold and sharply staring at her from under a curling sweep of auburn hair. She raised her chin and activated her disk. "You are a coward to challenge me alone, and I won't have mercy on you." She activated her duel disk as she spoke.

He smiled. "This is not a wager. I can offer you what you need, free of charge."

She scoffed, "And what do you think I need?"

"For starters, a place to live. Food on the table, a roof over your head–"

"Keep your charity. I work alone." She turned and strode past him.

"The headaches have gotten worse, haven't they?"

She froze mid-step, not even turning her head to look at him.

He continued, "They have become more constant, day and night. You can't go to sleep as easily, and you wake up many times, always in pain. Since you can't sleep, you feel weaker during the day, and the pain gets even worse."

She spun back to him. "Who do you think you are – some kind of doctor?"

"Oh, I doubt you've had the money to see a doctor in a long time." When she bristled at his words, he softened his voice slightly. "Not that one could have helped you. But I can."

"You... you don't know–"

"What else can you do? You've already tried every painkiller or remedy for sale anywhere near your boarding house."

"The boarding... Have you been _watching_ me!?"

"I know many things, including how to help you."

"You know _nothing!_" She drew a card and swung it to her disk. Behind her arose a giant plant with many vines writhing around a petal-furled flower. Just below the flower, a pair of eyes glared down at the man, and the creature whipped its vines against the pavement, smashing bits of concrete into the air. The duelist declared, "I am the Witch. My cards are my only company, and if you want to live, then leave me alone! Go, Rose Tentacles!" Her creature lashed out with its vines.

With a blurring hand, the man drew a card as his disk hummed to life, and he loaded the card into the disk. A blue-green aura shone around him, and the vines whipped against it, but he did not flinch. He only smiled, standing tall and calm.

She gasped, her breath dying in her mouth. Then, she managed, "What... how...?"

"I know what you are, miss. You are a psychic duelist." He held one hand over his heart. "And so am I."

"Psychic...?"

"Your powers are a gift – a very rare gift for a very rare person. My own powers at your age could not compare with yours."

"My– no, you're lying!" Her monster lashed at him again, twice more, to no effect. "This is a curse!"

His smile faded. "My dear..."

"Don't you talk that way to me!"

"That is what the world wants you to think. We were born with this power, and we should use it. I represent the Arcadia Movement, an entire community of psychics like you. We will give you the support you need."

"I... I don't need..." She tried to make a fist, but her hand shook.

"We will give you the support you never had, not from your neighbors, nor from your school..." His eyes took in her ragged clothes. "Nor from your parents–"

Her lungs constricted, and she felt time stop. Then, she pointed. Rose Tentacles' vines swung high up then straight down.

The man's duel disk tore apart under the attack, and its cards and parts crashed to the ground.

Silence froze the air. His aura had vanished, and his eyes opened wide.

Then, she yelled, and her monster lashed out again. The first vine struck him across his face, whipping his head around and making him stagger. The second vine caught him in the chest, sending him reeling backward.

He breathed through gritted teeth, trying to stay upright as he leapt back, barely dodging the slashing, slicing vines. Strike after strike after strike whistled past him, crushing the pavement around him.

With every hit, she spat, "Go – to – _hell!_" She walked towards her stumbling target, and she drew another card. She looked at it, but it wasn't a monster card. She sneered, drawing again, then again and again. She glared back at him. "You don't know anything! Just die and leave me in peace!"

He glanced back and forth between her and the swinging vines. "Miss, I know you're in pain–"

"Pain? _Pain!?_" Rose Tentacles whipped a vine along the ground, sweeping the man's legs out from under him. In an instant, four vines pinned his wrists and ankles to the pavement. She drew one more card, glared at it, and shoved the entire handful of cards into a discard slot. Then, she glanced down for a moment and laughed. She swept down and picked up a card that had fallen from his disk's wreckage. Standing up straight, she whispered, "I'll show you pain," and she swung the card to her disk.

Light burst all around her, and a gigantic growling creature emerged from the summon. Above her appeared a dragon whose long neck and legs were coated in black scales with pink trim while the chest and sweeping wings were covered in heavy pink petals, catching the wind like so many flags. Long petal-chain crests swept back from the dragon's black head, and sharp pink eyes glared out at the world as the dragon roared with all its voice.

"I summon the Black Rose Dragon!" Aki's felt the rush of power electrifying her mind, and she locked eyes with the cowering man on the ground. "This will be the perfect way to show you what I can... what I..." A different feeling distracted her – a strange heat from her arm, _her right arm._

"No..." But when she looked down at herself, there it was: her forearm bore the red glowing outline of a clawed foot. The crimson light burned in her eyes, and she felt a slumping wave of dizziness. _That thing hasn't appeared since—_ Nausea surged up from her gut, and she struggled to keep the bile down, but now her head pounded hard enough to split open. She tried to breathe, groaning, choking on her own starved air. She staggered and stumbled, her vision going black and weak. _Can't think... can't breathe!_

She reached up and pulled her mask off, revealing a pale, lean face with sharp brown eyes. She took in a deep breath, planting her feet, locking her legs. "No more!" Feeling the chill of fresh air on her burning skin, she opened her eyes wide and forced her vision to clear. "I am strong! I am the Witch! And I don't – need – _anyone!_"

A deeper rumbling growl surrounded her, and she glimpsed thick, thorny, black vines unfurling on either side of her. She glanced up and saw the dragon wielding the vines, and she grinned, feeling her senses open up, exhilarated to see this dragon's might.

"Amazing..."

Her eyes refocused at the sound of that timid voice, and she snarled at her prisoner.

He smiled up at her. "Wonderful – you've done so much more than summon it. You've given it life—"

"Shut up. I'm done with you." She raised a finger, and the dragon whipped its vines back.

"Then you would kill me?" His face fell, and he sighed. "I can't say I'm surprised. For years, so many people have wanted to kill me, sneering at me, despising me like I'm some sort of sick mistake, a twisted monster."

"M-monster?" she breathed. Her hand faltered, and then she screamed in agony, clutching her head and shaking, feeling her legs tremble again. "No... no, no, _no!_" The image flooded her memory: her father towering over her, horror freezing his face as he ordered her away, calling her a— "Not a monster, not a monster!" She slumped forward, her legs buckling and her hands barely catching her weight as she dropped to her knees on the pavement. "Not me... Not me..."

The voice returned, "It's what they do to people like us. By hating us and calling _us_ the monsters, they can feel safe from us. Have you seen it? Their fear and repulsion? If they can't run away, then they do whatever they can to drive us out. There's no place where we can call home."

"Home..." she gasped, hyperventilating again, feeling cold air pierce her burning chest.

"But, now, there _is_ a place."

"You mean...? No – you're _lying!_"

"A place of safety, of hope, of _welcome_. An entire home where people with our gifts _belong_. And I want to share that with you."

"I won't... I don't want your—"

"Surely you must feel it – the longing for company. Imagine the feeling of being with people who accept you as one of their own."

She tried to protest, but the words died in her half-strangled throat. The fire burning from her arm blurred all her thoughts of rage. _Other people... like me?_

"To see the happiness of the people we've helped, to hear their joy – it's a beautiful gift. Everyone, down to the youngest child."

"Child?" Her blurry eyes focused on him. "...You have children?"

He smiled at her. "We save everyone, and children need help most of all."

Her heart shuddered and ached, harsh memories of tearful school days melding with dusty and dim recollections of laughter and peace.

"It is there for you, in this place."

"...This – this Arcadia Movement?"

"That part is entirely your choice. You don't have to join the Movement. That is a dream that truly tests our courage. Only let me invite you to our home, to see what we have accomplished, what a family we have made with each other." He smiled gently at her hard-breathing silence. "Let me invite you as my guest tonight. Our doors are open to you for as long as you wish."

Silent, breathing hard, she stared at him, searching his face for any sign of pity or anger. Instead, she saw only a smile, peaceful and warm. As if a valve had released in her mind, she felt her anger flow away from her, draining her and leaving only exhaustion. She waved a hand, and Rose Tentacles released the man. With another wave, both of her monsters vanished.

Very slowly and calmly, he sat up, rubbing his wrists. "I am sorry to have caused you such anguish."

"No – don't apologize to me..."

"Let us not worry about that." He got to his feet, stepped a little closer and held out his hand to her. "My name is Divine."

She gazed up at him, silent, unmoving, with her arm unlit. Then, she responded, "I'm Aki."

"A beautiful name."

She looked away, and she glanced behind her. "Oh!" She quickly tore her eyes away from his scattered cards.

He laughed lightly. "Don't worry about them." He kept his hand out for her.

She felt a twinge of guilt. "But... but they're your cards." With slow fingers, she began to pick them up.

He knelt with her. "Allow me." Between the two of them, they delicately regathered every fallen card. When she placed them in his hands, his fingers brushed against hers. He smiled, held up his reunited deck and said, "See? No harm done," and tucked it away. When he saw her eyes dart to her own armed disk, he added, "Keep the dragon – I insist. It belongs with you."

She smiled in return, and when he reached to her and began to stand, she put her hand in his and let him help her up.

He waved towards the distant street. "Please, miss Aki – my car is this way. The home of Arcadia waits for you."

She walked closely with him as he led her down the alley, and she did not let go of his hand until they had nearly reached the street.

Silently and calmly, the two of them entered the waiting limousine, which pulled away and drove far off, to a cleaner and brighter part of the city.

/ / /

Author's Note

_*To the guest* Welcome back! It was a very hard decision to remove Rua from the tag list, but I had to do it simply because I can only fit four characters, and I was determined to put everybody from the latest chapter on the list. I removed Rua for now just because his chapter was shorter. Don't worry – once the story is over, I'll choose my favorite four chapters and list their star characters._

_"Cross My Heart" [working title] is not going to have Rua, but that's only because the story will happen during the battle 5000 years ago. However, it will feature a certain someone who might remind you of Rua. You can guess who that might be._


	6. Darkened Gales

Pearson strode out of Satellite's black market lugging a bag of food and a couple bottles of medicine. Both had been hard bargains. _This'll help the kids a lot_, he thought. He moved away from the dimly-lit docks into the darker shadows of tumble-down buildings. With his tall stature and curly red hair, he wasn't very stealthy, but it had been a long time since anyone had tried to pry anything out of his grasp.

Even so, he kept a sharp eye out. He glimpsed only the occasional child picking through trash cans. They didn't jump or hide at the sight of him, and he gave them a thin smile.

He made it to one particular abandoned warehouse without meeting any adults. He pried the door open and crept through the dark until his hand found the sleek metal of his D-Wheel. After stashing his purchases in her trunk, he unlocked her and pushed her steadily towards the door without even a grunt of effort. At the threshold, the streetlamps revealed her black, bullet-nosed body with orange trim and rear fins.

He brought the Blackbird to a stop and waited, listening for the hum of Security vehicles. They didn't usually patrol this street at this time, but one never knew when they'd be on a raid – or shopping at the black market, of course. In a shadowy breeze, he heard an engine, and he tilted his head in concentration. _That's no Security engine – it's too high-pitched, too much knocking._ He poked his head out and scanned the wide main street.

He gawked at the sight of a distant van approaching him, swerving madly across the road, veering back and forth at random. Something was stuck to the windshield...

...and then he realized the shape was a _person_ – a teenager, a pale-haired guy in jeans and a black leather vest. The other guy was clinging to the windshield, yelling something that sounded like, "There's no escape from me!" The van swerved extra sharply, ramming the curb. The blast of a blown tire echoed throughout the block, and the van began to skid.

Suddenly, Pearson glimpsed movement from a nearby alley. A cat had run out of the alley, and a little girl was chasing after it. She stumbled into the headlit road, falling to the pavement, turning in shock to stare at the van careening toward her.

He darted out of the warehouse, boots pounding the pavement faster and faster, all his vision tightening onto her. Pearson launched into a flying tackle as the van shrieked toward them. He caught the girl in his arms, rolling and cradling her, smelling burned rubber.

His shoulders hit the sidewalk, and he tumbled and rolled to a dusty stop. A moment later, a smash of metal and glass exploded in his ears. Pearson turned his head to see the van smoking and crumpled up against a lamppost. He gritted his teeth, opening his arms to release the shuddering girl. He croaked, "Are you okay?"

She gasped repeatedly, eventually nodding.

"Can you walk?"

She nodded again, crawling and climbing to her feet.

"Good – then you better run." As she vanished back into the alleys, he got up as well. _A few bruises, a skinned arm, might've clipped my foot on that bumper, but I can move._ He scowled as he jogged over to the smoking wreck.

The guy from the windshield had leapt to the sidewalk within a few feet of the crash, and he stood smiling at it. He spotted Pearson. "Another rightful victory!"

"Are you insane? What the hell were you doing?"

The other guy's eyes might've been gold, although they only looked flat in the glare of the streetlamps as he laughed. "They'll learn not to mess with Team Satisfaction!"

Something clicked in Pearson's memory – little murmurs of neighborhood gossip. "That duel gang?"

"We're no mere gang – not anymore. I'd never tolerate anyone messing with—"

The van's door popped open, dropping its window glass in the process. A skinny, scarred man stumbled out, followed by a tall, unshaven man holding a briefcase. The first man caught sight of the pale guy, and he spat, "You crazy son of a bitch! You could've killed all of us!"

The Satisfaction kid grinned. "If you're unwilling to face that fate, then you don't belong here."

The man in back dropped the briefcase, and his hand flickered to his jacket, emerging with a long knife. "I say we wax him."

"Damn right, we do," growled the scarred man, pulling out his own knife. He lifted it, then paused at the sight of Pearson, who'd taken one step forward. "This ain't your fight, kid."

_No, it isn't_, Pearson thought. He only said, "No one's getting killed here."

"Man, we are getting all kinds of crazies tonight. Wax _both_ of 'em!" In a second, the unshaven man was in Pearson's face, the knife slashing towards the teen's eyes.

Pearson leapt back as his hand flew up, grabbing the big guy's wrist and wrenching it past him. The man twisted away, pulling it free before Pearson could get him into a hold. Pearson's fists went up as he crouched and circled. He spared a glance to see the other guy duck under a wild slash. "Hey, what's your name?"

He laughed, "I am Kyosuke Kiryu!"

"Robert Pearson, good to meet you." Then he focused on the next incoming attack. Dodging and weaving over and over, Pearson did his best to stay out of reach. He kept his hands up, always on the lookout for impending strikes to the throat or chest.

The man kept coming, slashing at him high, low, side to side.

A corner of Pearson's mind whispered that this was insane, that he should just run. Already, he had a couple of cuts (he prayed that they were shallow) on his forearm and palm. For the moment, he kept dodging, keeping the big thug in his view. Then, he wondered if this man was familiar with this street. Pearson circled a bit, took a few measured steps backward, and gave a little grin to his opponent.

The man sneered and lunged forward, knife outstretched.

Pearson saw the man's eyes widen at the impact of tripping on a pothole, arms flailing. In that moment, he grabbed the thug's wrist, whipping the arm down and around. His other hand seized the knife at the handle and flung it away.

The other man roared in pain and frustration, twisting and almost breaking free. Still caught in a grapple, he glared at the red-headed opponent, bared his yellow teeth, and tried to bring up a fist.

Pearson simply pulled the man close and rammed his own forehead into the man's nose. When the thug reeled back groaning and swearing, Pearson let him go and drove two quick punches into the man's face and solar plexus. He watched the man drop, made sure he wasn't getting up again, and then looked to see how Kiryu was faring.

The pale teen had some shallow cuts here and there, even one on his cheek, and yet he kept ducking and dodging, laughing all the time. He even tumbled backwards into a roll, and the lean thug darted forward to plunge the knife down into any open target.

Pearson darted forward, kneeling and scooping up a chunk of loose pavement, then flinging it at the thug. It struck him in the shoulder, and the man yelled and broke his stride.

From down on the ground, Kiryu grinned, pulled back a foot, and drove it up into the lean man's crotch.

Pearson winced at the sound of breath expelled in a whoosh and a squeak. The knife clattered to the road, and then Kiyru sprang up and planted a fist between his target's eyes. The impact sent the thug sprawling, and he didn't make another sound.

The two teenagers stood hunched over, gasping for breath. Pearson worked the strain out of his limbs, then fished in his pockets for an old handkerchief and wrapped it around his biggest cut.

Kiryu glanced at him and grinned. "That was a good fight."

"Thanks – you, too," he said, realizing that he was grinning right back.

Kiryu strode towards the van and retrieved the briefcase.

Pearson nodded at it. "So what started all of this?"

The lanky teen snarled, "They interfered with my plan. I needed a precious resource for this war, and they thought that they could help themselves to my prize." He snapped the case open, revealing the sheen of foil and clear plastic.

The word came out in a gasp. "Cards..."

"Limited edition packs – perhaps one of a kind. One hour ago, these were on their way to Security headquarters. Now, they're in Satellite hands where they belong."

"You..." Suddenly, this guy's lack of backup had new meaning. "You robbed Sector Security? ...by _yourself?_"

A shadow crossed Kiryu's face. "Yes."

"Wait... what about that team of yours?"

His mouth lowered into a grimace. "They... I... they will see how—" He swallowed his voice, shutting his eyes tight. After a second or two, he opened them and smiled at Pearson again. "You have a strong will. What would you say..." He flung out a pack. "...to joining me?"

He caught the pack reflexively, and his brain buzzed with half-forgotten details of this guy, leader of a team on a crusade to conquer Satellite... a team of four. But they'd never touched the Securities. This was something new.

"Come on," urged Kiryu. "This is your chance to have something that—" His breath twitched a bit. "...that _most_ people wouldn't dare to approach." He held out the case full of countless packs.

Pearson felt his heart pounding with the blood from his muscles. His nose caught the slightly metallic scent of freshly-sealed foil... Then, he remembered the shapeless glint of Kiryu's eyes gazing at a wrecked, burning van. He stood up straight and met Kiryu's eager gaze. "Yeah, Satellite needs protectors." He saw the smile sharpen before added, "What about the rest of your team?"

The grin froze, and Kiryu's jaw clenched and unclenched. "What about them?"

"Are they in on this? We'd do better together." Pearson watched carefully in case the other guy lost his temper. When he saw Kiryu's eyes go distant, he said, "If they're in, then come talk to me. Ask around at the market – you'll find me." He watched, staying as calm as he could, ready in case of a fight.

Instead, Kiryu slammed the case shut. "Fine. And keep that." He nodded at the lone pack. "You'll need it. Things will get worse sooner than you think."

Pearson glanced back at the pack in his hand, then pocketed it and nodded in return.

The pale teenager turned and darted into the shadows, leaving Pearson alone.

Pearson turned his back on the wrecked van, returning to his D-Wheel and fishing out a few bandages. Patched up and mounted, he revved her up and shot out onto the main street. He felt the humble weight of the pack in his pocket. _We all have our battles to fight. But the way he's doing it..._ Unease gnawed at him as he thought of his kids in the line of fire. He reassured himself, _I'm already doing what I have to do so they can have a better life. I'm where I belong._

He and the Blackbird shot out of the district of high buildings, going towards Satellite's outer residential areas. He felt the open air's wind wash over him, and he smiled a bit. _I'll share these cards __–__ if there's so much as one card in here that'll help me protect them, then that'll be enough._ With that happy thought, he left the streetlamps behind, flying towards the home, kids, and best friend that waited for him.


End file.
